


Nervous Smiles

by Avelyesqe



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:38:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelyesqe/pseuds/Avelyesqe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eponine doesn’t see Combeferre smile at lot, even. He’s too busy trying to make sure Enjolras doesn't set the government buildings on fire or that Courfeyrac doesn't destroy everything with his unadulterated enthusiasm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nervous Smiles

“I love you more than I love turkey bacon?” Eponine says looking at the ground (she tried. She tried really, really, really hard to keep eye contact but that just didn’t work out). “I don’t like turkey bacon at all, pretending to be bacon. That fucking bullshit.” She can hear Combeferre chuckle faintly and she smiles a little.

 

But then she considers what’s she just said and _Jesus fucking Christ Combeferre just told me he loved me and_ that’s _the best I can come up with?_  

 

“I’m sorry, I—“ But when she looks up Combeferre is just smiling at her.

 

And she’s about to question everything he values, but he kisses her full on the mouth and she just kind of melts into him (and _is this even fucking possible_ she questions to herself).        

 

When they break apart Combeferre lightly kisses her forehead and when she’s about to question him or protest what he’s just done (he’s not entirely sure which, but his best guess would bet it’s one of them), he just shushes her with a shake of his head.      

 

She looks like she’s at a loss for words and that’s one of his favorite expressions on her, so he just pulls her close and rests his chin on top of her head. 

“Don’t even,” he says quietly, taking his chin off of her head so he can whisper into her ear, “don’t even worry about it or protest.”

 

Eponine backs away from him, and this time he lets her, only because he wants to be able to look her in the eye.

 

“Okay?” he asks, still holding on to her.

 

Eponine looks at his face and is _so sure_ of what she wants, but she knows that this is a bad idea because she’s seen her own track record and _something_ is going to go horribly, horribly wrong and then everything will be ruined forever.

 

But Combeferre looks so sure of this, like it’s the only reasonable option for them, and she closes her eyes and he doesn’t let go and she’s worrying and worrying and worrying but says “okay” back anyway, and that’s the only sentiment she’ll be able to return for a while and she hopes to God he knows that (and something tells her that he does).

 

And Combeferre smiles again. One of those honest-to-God smiles that even the happiest people on manage to smile on rare occasion (Eponine’s only seen it on Joly’s face a couple of times) and she _wants_ to love him but she don’t know if she _can_ (but that same something tells her that he doesn’t mind). 

 

She doesn’t see Combeferre smile at lot, even. He’s too busy trying to make sure Enjolras doesn’t set the government buildings on fire or that Courfeyrac doesn’t destroy everything with his unadulterated enthusiasm or that Joly doesn’t pass out or that Bossuet doesn’t kill himself opening a pen or that Grantaire doesn’t _actually_ kill himself through alcohol poisoning or paint fumes (or both, depending on the week) or Feuilly and Bahorel don’t accidently kill each other because _God_ they are awful roommates (Combeferre doesn’t often worry about Jehan, whose hobbies tend to be safer and sanity more intact).

 

When she sees Combeferre smile, she can’t help but to smile back.

 

And Combeferre sees her smile and sees her face light up in all the right places and he never really thought that romantic love was his kind of thing (he never thought sexuality was his kind of thing either (he remembers his unfortunate and uncomfortable college experiences), but Eponine has proved that to be false as well), but apparently it is and he’s okay with that (unlike Enjolras who consistently fights and ignores his urge to fuck Grantaire into oblivion and then cuddle with the artist until sunrise). He’s okay with that because Eponine’s honest with him in ways he’s not honest with himself and she doesn’t sugar coat and she lets him know that he doesn’t always have to put up with everyone’s shit because A) he does so much already and B) ‘they’re old enough to handle their own shit without needing you to wipe their applesauce covered faces.’

 

“They’re not children,” Combeferre had argued. They had been sitting in a cute little corner café Eponine liked after a meeting, and she couldn’t help but notice how tired he was.

 

“They are sometimes,” Eponine said, smirking at him. “And let’s be real. Courfeyrac generally has the maturity of a six year old.”

 

“Courfeyrac aside,” he started before being promptly interrupted.

 

“Bahorel.”

 

“Tends to be violent, but that doesn’t mean he’s a child—“

 

“No, but you must watch him like a child and he can’t have too much sugar or else all hell _will_ break loose.”

 

“Jehan,” Combeferre countered, somewhat desperately running through their list of friends who could take care of themselves (and no one really came to mind).

 

Eponine smiled. “An exception.” She took a sip from her drink and watched Combeferre from the corner of her eye (and he could see it and _feel_ it and goddammit. Now he was nervous and his palms were sweating and that’s just disgusting and _get it together, Combeferre_ , he thought, trying to mask his butterflies-in-stomach induced nerves with a smile.

 

“Your nervous smile is cute,” she said, drawing his attention away from the window behind her.

 

“Now,” she grinned, “can we count this as our first date or do you need to ‘protect your masculinity’ and be the one to ask me out?”

 

(And naturally Combeferre was okay with her asking him out first.)

 

 

 

“You should smile more, kid,” she mumbles as she buries her face into his chest and they wrap their arms around each other, holding the other close and very tightly as if they’re scared that the wind might blow one of them away.

 

And it’s peaceful and quiet and Eponine is appreciating how good Combeferre smells and Combeferre is a little bit in love with Eponine’s hair and then there’s a flash and another and another and both of them turn to look at where it’s coming from and Courfeyrac manages to snap one more picture before he runs his skinny ass away.

 

It’s only a matter of seconds before they’re both tagged in a photoset (which is pretty adorable if they do say so themselves) on Facebook.

 

So they both share one more smile and there’s a devious glint in Eponine’s eye which Combeferre both loves and is moderately afraid of (depending on the occasion). So he nods and he can still feel himself smiling as he watches her run after Courfeyrac.

 

(Later that night he’ll be tagged in another photoset; this one of Eponine and Jehan with Courfeyrac tied to a kitchen chair and covered in silly string.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry I've been dead for so long but I had exams and life and stuff and D:  
> But I have lots of stuff that I'm trying to finish?  
> I'm not very good at finishing things (or even doing things, like I'm not very quality usually).  
> SO I"M SORRY IN ADVANCE. D:  
> Also I am bad at summaries. I apologize for that too. :L
> 
>  
> 
> But here!  
> Have some cuteness maybe.  
> :)


End file.
